


Jack + The Talk + Mac

by TANGOCHARLIE



Series: Jack Dalton's School of Infinite Wisdom [1]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Gen, George Eads Appreciation Week, Pre-Series, Protective Jack Dalton (MacGyver 2016), army days
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-02-24
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:53:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22884319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TANGOCHARLIE/pseuds/TANGOCHARLIE
Summary: "I was just thinking that there are some things that your pop probably never got the chance to tell you. Questions that you should have gotten the chance to ask him."
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: Jack Dalton's School of Infinite Wisdom [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1644943
Comments: 14
Kudos: 83





	Jack + The Talk + Mac

**Author's Note:**

> The TC authors had a late night discussion about Jack Dalton's Infinite Wisdom and Papa Jack shenanigans which led to this fic. We hope you enjoy the laugh and are having a great start to George Eads Appreciation Week!
> 
> If you enjoyed the second hand embarrassment may we direct you to this fabulous fic full of hilarious miscommunication: Birds + Bees by violetvaria

“Hanson.”

Across the barracks the specialist jumps up eagerly, grabbing his letter, tearing into it the second his hand closes around the envelope. 

“Lopez.” 

Jack watches his specialist feign disinterest throughout the mail call, as he always does. Settled back on his bunk, one long leg dangling over the edge, lightly swinging back and forth like a kid sitting in a treehouse, while the other is kicked out in front of him on the mattress. He’s fiddling with a handful of paperclips, his knife and a pile of yellow coated wires, pretending he’s completely oblivious to the thrum of excitement in the barracks that always accompanies mail call. He hasn’t lifted his head from his project once. 

It might not be an act, not completely. The way the kid can disappear into his head for hours at a time, getting lost inside his brain, tuning out the rest of the world. Jack has been, a little offended, truth be told, by how thoroughly the kid can ignore him. It doesn’t seem like it’s intentional because one, he can quote back Jack’s rant almost in its entirety, adding his own commentary and impression of Jack’s diction and drawl if called on it. And two, well, this isn’t a firmly tested hypotenuse, and the kid will absent-mindedly correct him on that, Jack thinks with a smile, but when the world gets to be too much, he has observed through his scope the way that the kid’s shoulders relax if Jack can get a good ramble going. Something this side of obnoxious, random enough to startle him, and light enough that Mac can turn it over in his brain without needing to give it his full attention.

And three, the kid actually asked for some help with his situational awareness, proving that he’s more aware than he lets on. Implying that he recognizes more of Jack’s career history than he’s been told. And Jack thoroughly enjoys sneaking up on the kid for training purposes when he gets too far gone in his head. 

Right now, Mac’s putting his acting skills to good work and made it seems like the barracks have completely faded from his consciousness. But Jack can still see his ears twitching like an old hunting dog, who knows they aren’t going out with the rest of the pack but can’t give up hope that he’ll get dragged out for one last hunt. Letters from home are few and he’s already received a care package from Bozer this month. Not likely he’s gonna get another one this soon. It’s easier to pretend he doesn’t care. It breaks Jack’s heart that this twenty-year-old kid doesn’t have many people in his life that care enough about him to drop him a note, even just to say thanks for your service, or we hope you make it home soon. And alive. No mama to send him cookies, though Bozer’s recipes rival just about every dessert passed around the barracks.

Mama’s got a care package coming for him soon. Told Jack what she was doing as soon as she recognized the affection in her son’s complaints about his bomb nerd, but Jack’s pretty sure the box hasn’t left Texas yet. 

No daddy to say he’s proud of his son. And that pisses Jack off. You take responsibility for your actions. You bring a kid into this world, you make damn sure that he’s taken care of. You tell him, show him you’re proud of him. You teach him how to shave and how to drive a car. You let him know that he is important and loved, and if you’re “too masculine” to tell your kid how precious he is, well, you get over that macho BS and you tell him anyway.

“MacGyver.”

Mac’s head snaps up on reflex. A quick glance at Jack to make sure he wasn’t hearing things, and Jack grins at him. Mac hops down, landing lightly, like a cat, reaching for his letter, trying to resist the urge to snatch it and hold it to his chest as if he’s worried it will vanish before he’s gotten the chance to read it. 

He frowns as he walks back to his bunk, eyes scanning the envelope for a clue to the sender. His mouth quirks into a half-smile of recognition. He leans against the bunk, legs crossed at his ankles, meticulously loosens the glue on the flap. Sliding what looks to be a five-page letter from its sheath. Front and back. Neat, bubbly script. 

A girl.

Jack smirks. Course there would be a girl stashed somewhere. If the kid hadn’t been named after a hamburger, Jack would have teased him and nicknamed him Hollywood, and not just cause he’s from LA. Everywhere he goes his blond hair, lanky build, and blue eyes get a double take and an appreciative grin. Not that the kid is even aware of it. Not watching the way Linstrom’s flirting and propositions fly right over his head with confused but genuine smiles. 

Like the smile on his face right now. It’s kind of heartbreaking how wide that grin is, and how there’s a fragile edge to it. Like he can hardly believe that someone out there was thinking of him, just for him, not for something he could do for them. 

Mac folds up the pages and carefully slides them back into the envelope and into the chest pocket that he reserves for his knife, paperclips, and gum wrappers. The most important stuff in his life. 

“Don’t tell me you finished already. Even speed reading you couldn’t be done yet. There were at least ten pages there.” 

“Penny is kind of wordy,” Mac smiles, patting his pocket as if he wants to be sure the letter didn’t disintegrate once it was out of sight. 

“We got time for you to enjoy your letter before we roll out.”

Mac shrugs while glancing around the barracks before pushing himself forward and grabbing his gear. “Not sure that I feel like sharing it with everyone.” Checking to make sure his pack is secured, he heads for the door.

“You sly dog,” Jack thumps him on the back as he follows him out into the hot sun. “Penny, huh? She got coppery red hair? Fiery red with a spicy temper to match?”

Mac squints in the sunlight and in thought. “No, kind of brown.” He smiles. “She does have kind of a temper though, especially when she knows she’s right about something or fighting injustice.”

And if that doesn’t sound like the kind of girl Mac would be hung up on. Not giving up, picking a fight when she knows she’s right. Yeah, Jack could see that. 

They circle the humvee they’ve been assigned to, visual checks before stowing their gear and climbing into the cab. Jack picked up the mic, announcing their call sign and requesting permission to roll out. 

Clearing the perimeter of the camp in a cloud of sandy dust, they head for the location of their first request for assistance. Mac’s fingers continue flicking up to his pocket, unable to stop himself from feeling the edges of his letter through the course material.

“You should have just read it before we left, dude. Or were you worried about being uh…” Jack clears his throat. “Distracted.”

Mac shrugs. “Penny always has a lot to say. Sometimes it takes some concentration. A full barracks and orders to roll out… it just didn’t seem like the appropriate time to get into it.”

Jack catches his tongue between his teeth in a grin that Mac doesn’t acknowledge, too busy scanning out the window. The kid certainly is cagey about this letter. His hand ghosts over his pocket again. 

“How do you know Penny?”

“She’s from back home. Me, Bozer and Penny grew up together. Three musketeers type stuff. Did everything together.” A smile twitches on Mac’s lips. Wilt, Angus, and Penny. What were their parents thinking? Boze, Mac and Parker, they renamed themselves. And they really did everything together… except when Penny tried joining the Boy Scouts. “Well, almost everything.” 

Jack hums in acknowledgment, encouraging him to continue, remembering his first crush. The knowing look his pop gave him when he squeaked and his ears flushed. Trying to act nonchalant as he told the story of how Lucy Whitaker was the last girl standing in dodgeball, and the third last kid in the game, and how she took him out when she nailed him straight in the chest. How his pop, looked up from the engine with a smile, wiped his hands on a rag and checked to make sure they were alone before giving him the talk. The first of many talks, and little Jack Junior’s ears flushing red. 

“She was my first… my first, uh, kiss.” A faint blush creeps up Mac’s face at the memory. It was after the Boy Scouts. Despite being better at tracking and building a campfire than their troop leader, she was turned down flat when she requested to join. A girl couldn’t join the boy scouts, especially in Mission City in the nineties. 

It wasn’t about being a scout, Penny told him when he asked her. It was about the principle. It was about spending more time with her two best friends. A few weeks later, Bozer and Mac joined her in protest and quit the scouts themselves. No matter what Mr. Sandoz tried to say, or the poor attitudes unbefitting a scout that he accused them of exhibiting at their club meetings, they left on their own accord. 

Penny slugged him before she hugged him, and a few hours later he finished drawing up the plans to build their treehouse, laboratory fortress and never once regretted their decisions. 

Jack pulls his eyes from the sand covered road and gives his bomb nerd another wide grin as he watches Mac lost in thought, and remembering his own first… kiss and the way he was gone on Sandy Miller. Moony eyes, sweaty palms and unable to concentrate on anything. Trying to explain that failed math exam because she smiled at him as she passed out the tests and he forgot to work the problems rather than stare at her. 

He remembers tinkering with his pop on the GTO, trying to build up enough courage to tell him about the test he knows he just failed and ask him about girls. Growing up on a ranch, he was well aware of how things worked, even before his pop dragged him out to the garage to give him the talk. 

Pop always had time for him. He never once questioned his dad’s support or his love. 

Mac chuckles to himself at the uproar they caused, how he always seemed to be right smack in the middle of every Mission City scandal. The frogs getting loose from the science lab, and the sudden increase in the amphibians down by the creek. Or scrambling up the branches of the tallest tree in town to save their park from developers. There were some good memories in Mission City. It wasn’t all death and loss and neighbors passing judgment on the weird abandoned MacGyver troublemaker. After a year or two, his escapades faded from memory, usually because he found himself in some other scrape. 

But the fundraiser for anatomically correct faux frogs was a huge success, and generated less biohazardous waste. And that tree is a historical site now. 

Jack’s smile widens, watching Mac, engrossed with his memories and thinking how unfair it is that the kid doesn’t have more people in his life that make him smile like this. He should be home. Or on a college campus somewhere. Thinking about getting engaged, maybe even to this Penny, and making lots of little blond baby geniuses. 

“And the fireworks…” Mac shakes his head, his face flushing hot again. Explosions rocking their treehouse, and burning down the toolshed, and lighting fire to the football field. Those had all been accidents. Mostly. Controlled explosions and fire suppression plans that mostly worked. He’d been in a lot of trouble for those fires. Almost arrested. Kid from the broken home doing destructive things. A lot of people had a lot of opinions on how to curb his behavior, but Bozer and Penny stuck with him. One for all and all for one. 

A knowing nod from Jack. Puppy love and the fireworks that go along with those first kisses and first loves. And the lectures he received about being safe and responsible. About protection and consent. About making sure every step of the way his partner was agreeable and comfortable. That he wasn’t just taking but also giving, making sure his partner got what they needed. 

Jack frowns. The stuff his pop told him has stuck with him even all these years later. The kid is barely twenty-one. His dad left when he was an actual kid. Bugged out of his responsibilities. No one to role model happy, healthy relationships, that much is clear by the way Mac buries his feelings instead of dealing with them. Hiding them until they bubble over the surface, then shoving them down as deep as he can again, and repeating the cycle. 

Jack’s brow lowers further. From the few things Mac has mentioned, it doesn’t sound like his pop was present even if he was physically around. Didn’t spend much time teaching him things a father should make sure he knows. Wasn’t there to be the safety net, or tell him he loved him, or know that his dad would support him, have his back no matter what. 

The way Jack knew his pop would always have his back, even while making him own up to his actions.

“I was seventeen. Had scored the winning touchdown at the football game. Big man on campus.”

Mac snorts. 

“Sorry, don’t know what the nerd equivalent would be to that feeling of euphoria…”

“Funny.”

“Jimmy Leroy beat me out for homecoming king though, and that stung. Betts and I were going steady at the time. And wouldn’t you know, the car stalls. I mean really, not just a ploy to get her alone. I’m about to get out and take a look at it because I built this car with my pop so I know she should be purring, but then Betts started purring, and cozying up and got her hand between my knees and I kind of forgot about the engine for a while.” 

“Was this the GTO?” Mac asks, furrowing his brow. Jack’s a great mechanic. Meticulous. Makes sure that the Humvees never overheat, have plenty of fluid and coolant, oil changes on the regular. No way he’d take a date out in a car he wasn’t sure was reliable. Jack takes all of his responsibilities seriously. 

“Huh? Yeah,” Jack smirks. He’ll let Mac try to guess the engine trouble after he finishes his story. “Well, a couple weeks later, that moonlit night isn’t such a warm memory. Betts is late.”

“For what?”

“For what… she’s late. Like her cycle. Is late.” Jack raises an eyebrow at Mac. He’s a smart kid, maybe he knows even less than Jack worries he does. “She tells me. I tell my pop, and I was scared, ya know? Seventeen and nowhere near ready to be a daddy, and looking down the barrel of a shotgun wasn’t exactly how I planned to say my vows. Even though I knew he wasn’t gonna be... happy about the way he’d become a granddad I knew he was gonna be there for me. Support me, heck even throw the posse off my trail if Mr. Hendricks was out for revenge and not a son-in-law.” 

“Better not use the GTO as the getaway car though,” Mac teases. “Seems like it might be unreliable.

“Aw, got that fixed that night. Didn’t even need a tow.”

Mac nods thoughtfully. “So are you on the run now or…?”

“Nah, it was just a scare. Betts got her cycle the next day. And we broke it off after that. Scared me real good, but the only thing I really remember clearly is the realization that my pop would be there for me through anything.” 

“Sounds like Jack Senior was a good dad.”

“Yeah, man, he was. Always seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing. Now I know he was just trying his best like the rest of us.”

Mac turns, looking out the window again. 

Jack is screwing this up. Making this about his dad, when it should be about Mac. About making sure that Mac is safe. 

“Well, he made sure I had everything I needed to grow up feeling safe. I was just thinking that there are some things that your pop probably never got the chance to tell you. Questions that you should have gotten the chance to ask him. You were ten, right? That’s pretty young. Don’t even know what kind of questions to ask then.”

Mac shrugs, but Jack can see the tightening of his jaw. It’s really not fair. The kid should have been playing pickup basketball games with his old man, had him helping with the move into his college dorm, talked him out of joining up to disarm bombs and try not to die in the desert. The old guy should be pestering him for grandbabies. 

“Ya probably got the uh... the mechanics figured out. S’pose most boys do without much help in that area.”

Mac nods absently. He’d always been mechanically inclined. Made a lot of Rube Goldberg machines. Spent hours observing his dad tinkering in the toolshed before he accidentally burned it down. And if Jack would give him a few more details he could probably puzzle out the engine trouble the GTO had that night. He watched James change the oil in the car. He’d been promised a chance to do it himself when he was a little older. Just another promise his dad never made good on.

Harry tried. He used to pick up broken appliances on the side of the road so Mac could take them apart and figure out how they worked without destroying their own fridge or toaster. 

“But other things like, ya know, making sure you always wear a raincoat. And don’t carry ‘em in your wallet cause they can tear.” 

Mac glances over at Jack, brow furrowed as he tries to follow the sudden twist in conversation. He turns to look out the window of the Humvee again, still frowning. The sky is clear as always. He cranes his head upward. The sun beating down on the dry dusty sand. He can’t remember a single rainstorm since he’s been in country, but his dad would have agreed with the “always be prepared” sentiment that Jack is trying to impress on him, it was his dad’s idea for him to join the boy scouts. Though Mac can think of a few other tools more useful than a rain poncho. 

Maybe an umbrella, the metal frame, the springs inside the tube could be harvested for parts.

He feels Jack’s eyes on him.

“I suppose,” Mac says slowly. “California doesn't have too much rain though. Been in the middle of a drought for the last few years.”

Jack lets out a startled cough.

Mac turns back to look at him, head tipped and brow furrowed at Jack’s sputtering. “Texas doesn’t get that much rain either.”

The Humvee slows as Jack stares at him. “Seriously, Carl’s Junior?” 

“Well, I suppose eastern Texas gets more since it’s off the coast of the Gulf…” Mac muses not sure why Jack is so offended that he thinks Texas has limited rainfall.

“I’m not… I’m not talkin’ about an actual raincoat.”

Mac’s eyes narrow.

“Sheath your rocket. Plug the geyser, keep a helmet on your soldier… Condoms, dude. I’m telling you to wear a condom.”

“What?” Mac falters at the sudden twist of conversation. “Why?”

“Did you not hear my pregnancy scare story?”

“I thought you were just talking. I didn’t realize this was you trying to give me the talk on the way to disarm an IED.” 

“You get a letter from an old girlfriend, and get all daydreamy and moony over it and I realized you were ten when your old man left--”

“I didn’t get moony.”

“You’ve had the dumbest look I’ve ever seen on your face.”

“Penny wasn’t even a girlfriend.” 

“You said she was your first.”

“First kiss.”

“I thought that was a euphemism.” 

“It was a kiss! It was more of an-- an experiment.” 

Jack frowns. “And that’s not a euphemism?”

“No!”

“My point still stands. Last thing I want for you is getting into trouble. Little blond MacGyver babies might be cute, but you make sure you’re ready for them and don’t let ‘em surprise you.”

Mac scrubs a hand down his face, pushing his hand against his mouth as he listens to Jack’s rant. 

“And those things have a surprisingly high failure rate, just remember Ross and Rachel.”

“So you’re saying there are a bunch of little Dalton’s running around that you don’t know about?”

Jack frowns for a second considering that scenario. “Nah. I’d know. Their mamas would make sure I knew. No one wants to raise a Dalton kiddo alone.”

Mac snorts. 

“I know you were pretty young when your dad bugged out, and I don’t know the man or what he was thinking, but it doesn’t seem like he was setting too good an example about how to care for another person. You gotta talk about stuff. Be open and honest. And listen to what she’s saying. Make sure she’s getting what she needs too.”

“Aw... Jack,” Mac grimaces shaking his head.

“I’m not just talkin’ bedroom stuff. That’s important too, make sure you ain’t leaving her hanging. Make sure she’s done before you roll over and go to sleep. But listen to her, all the time, especially when she wants to talk about her feelings.”

“Yep. Got it.” Mac squeezes the bridge of his nose, hoping that maybe Jack is winding down and will bumble his way out of the conversation and they can ignore each other awkwardly the rest of the drive. His hopes are dashed a moment later. 

“And especially listen to her in the bedroom, hoss. Just cause she ain’t sayin’ ‘no’? That don’t mean it’s a ‘yes’ either,” Jack’s drawl getting thicker as his tone becomes even more serious. 

“Yeah, I know, Jack,” Mac mumbles. 

“Just cause she said yes once doesn’t mean it’s always a ‘yes.’”

“Jack, I’ve got it. I’m not going to force myself on anyone.” 

“You check in with her every step of the way, you hear me?” Jack continues as though Mac hadn’t spoken.

Mac nods, settling in for a long rant about consent. 

“If she ain’t comfortable with something? If she gives you any indication that she’s not into it or wants to stop, you hit the brakes, regardless of what you, any  _ part _ of you, wants.”

“Yes, sir,” Mac replies and hates the way his tone sounds like a sullen teenager after a lecture. He just can’t figure out why Jack is being so weird about this. Talking to him like this.

“You’re a smart kid, just make sure you’re thinking with the brain in your head instead of the one between your legs.” 

Mac’s head snaps up and he’s about to complain about the topic again when he risks a glance at Jack. His eyes are serious, his mouth set, but there’s something else… and Jack turns to look at him, he sees…

“I’m not trying to embarrass you kid. I just don’t want to see you get hurt.” There’s something in his eyes that Mac can’t quite identify. “And you know, if you aren’t comfortable with something, you can say ‘no’ too. Doesn’t make you less of a man if you stop things from going any further.” 

“Yeah,” Mac’s voice is soft. “I know, Jack.” 

Jack is looking out for him. Worrying about him, not just in a ‘doesn’t want to watch Mac get his head blown off by a sniper’ kind of way. But in a friend or an older brother kind of way. It’s been... a long time since anyone has worried about him like this. 

Jack gives a sharp nod. “So when you were talking about fireworks earlier?”

“Boze, Penny and I made napalm.”

“Seriously?”

“It’s not… difficult,” Mac shrugs. He's way more comfortable talking about things that go boom. “The stuff burns for hours. Took the fire department all day to put it out.” 

“Mission City must have been a weird place to grow up, dude.” 

Mac shakes his head. "You don't know the half of it." 


End file.
